Bladesong
by Connet
Summary: Warriors place half of their ferocity and heart into their blades; they very sword they imbued their essence in. Druids, however, are a different thing. They must bend and be flexible, working nature to their will. Rogues are, in every way, completely different from warriors. Perhaps the opposite of warriors; but who knows what will happen when the three encounter each other?


**Author's Note:**

**I will apologize in advance for my lack of wound-describing and making it seem longer. I don't have a broken bone and the worst I usually get is a bruise or scrape, so I ended up looking up 'gash' on google. I went to images and tried to imagine a deep gash and all that. Alright, ew.  
I don't want to imagine it. I'm already haunted.  
I also wrote this out of pure imagination and didn't really give much of a third glance to it, so I apologize if my words are a little... off. BTW, this is somewhat of a prologue/introduction/whatever.**

* * *

She was alone.

She was going to die from various injuries and lack of air if she didn't get the damned breastplate off. Perhaps, at least, she could get away without having to worsen the bleeding from her leg or shoulder. Or she could get away with minor blood loss. She laughed; a hoarse sound, stark in contrast to her usual, melodic laugh.

_Stop it, _she thought, choking off her laughter. _First things first, get the breastplate and my legguard off._

Her eyes drifted over to her leather satchel, a hair's breadth out of reach. She took a deep breath, as deep as she dared, and leaned forward. Her shoulder screamed in agony, as did her thigh as she yanked the white leather bag towards her. A warm trickle of blood slid down her shoulder and into her undershirt. She grimaced.

She opened her bag, pulling it closer. She sighed through her nose, thankful that she'd packed a few rolls of silk and wool bandages, a dagger, food and water, and some salves. Picking out the dagger, she set to work cutting loose the straps that held her breastplate in place, relieved when it finally sagged.

She coughed, unsurprised to find a small red spot on the forest floor. She pulled up her knee slightly, hissing at the pain that came from her thigh, and worked on untying the ties that held on her upper left legguard. She fumbled with the ties, her mind clouded, and resulted to ripping it loose. Her shoulder screamed in agony when she did.

Her armor consisted of plate, which kept her safe for the majority of the time. Under it, she had a cloth or leather undershirt or pants to keep from chaffing and directing away most of the attacks should her plate armor fail. Her plate armor had failed miserably and she only had her remaining leather and cloth clothing for protection, unless she could manage to fix her breastplate and upper legguard.

Fifteen minutes later, she had peeled away her leather and cloth pants to reveal the gash on her leg. It was shaped like a narrow oval, revealing the beginning of a tissue. Blood had dried around the edges, causing it to scab. She clenched her jaw and pulled out one of her two waterskins out of the bag and the wool bandages. She tore off a strip of the wool bandages and unscrewed the lid to the waterskin, tilting the waterskin upside down with the strip of wool pressed to the opening. Hissing, she pressed the damp cloth to edges of the gash.

After the bleeding was partially stanched, she wrapped her leg in silk bandages and replaced her upper legguard, tightening it as best she could without aggravating her wound. Her gaze drifted to the dented breastplate that sat a few feet away and sighed. She'd have to have it repaired; several scratches and dents had made its way onto the breastplate, along with the dent that rendered it almost impossible to breathe.

She glared.

"Elune curse me," she muttered under her breath and pulled off her right shoulderpad, grimacing. She picked up her dagger and sliced off the sleeve, staring at her shoulder. _Two new scars to add to the collection, _she thought grimly. It wasn't deep enough to be fatal, but deep enough to give her a scar. She reached for the nearest roll of bandages, which happened to be the wool, and pressed it firmly to the wound. She wrapped it with the wool bandages and sighed, staring at the salves she had yet to use.

The warrior curled onto her side after repacking all the supplies, leaving her breastplate alone, and decided that the salves could wait.

* * *

He circled around the place of the attack, searching for signs of life. As before, there were none.

Caldor sighed, giving his birdlike head a shake and landing on the edge of the clearing. The tents had been burnt to nubs and smoke curled into nothing. The majority of the supplies were gone and corpses littered the ground. He went around to each corpse after shifting back into a Night Elf, healing the injuries as best he could and wishing their souls an easier journey to Elune.

His jaw tightened when he saw faint footprints in the grass and knelt down to examine them. They were weighted but the person had been stealthy and they led deeper into Ashenvale. Caldor's stomach did a little flip-flop as he followed them; slowly, stealthily. A silver glint caught his attention and drew his golden eyes down to see a sword. He moved his hands over the sword, detecting no enchantments, and picked it up.

The sword was light and easy to wield. On the hilt, it had a single rune, one he did not recognize and neither Darnassian nor Orcish. Caldor licked his lips and continued on until he came to another glint of silver and metallic purple.

It was a breastplate.

He picked it up, eyeing it. The straps had been broken and it had collapsed in, giving him the impression that someone had ripped it off; more specifically, a Night Elf. He swept his golden gaze across the piece of land that served as a tiny clearing, catching a glint of silver in the dying sunlight. He raised up his hand to hide the glare, moving forward. His breath caught as he surveyed the warrior before him.

"Seleria Moonstar, you have much explaining to do," Caldor muttered under his breath.

* * *

**Alright, I hope I'll get better at writing longer chapters. But, as before, this is something of an introduction/prologue/whatever. I felt it'd be kinda dramatic to reveal her name at the end xD**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own Blizzard, World of Warcraft, or any of the NPCs. I own Seleria and Caldor.**


End file.
